Page 129 of A Brat's Tale
Corrik did give me a tattoo, of a “C” on the back of my neck in Elvish and I was equally drawn to asking him if he would get a “T” on the back of his neck in Markaytian. I didn’t realize I could mark my men too, not permanently anyway, but I can and I’m wild about the idea. I think about Bayaden’s tattoo of my name under his eye often.
I don’t know if I’ll ever see Bayaden again, but I like the thought that he has something of me on him forever.
The head of Alrik’s large, Elven cock lines up with my entrance, it’s so hard it’s purpling; he wants me. He begins to slide in slowly, allowing me to adjust to this size. It’s different adjusting as an Elf than it was as a human. It happens faster, my passage relaxes and Alrik can slip into the hilt, brushing up against my prostate immediately.
I moan, my cock trying to get hard but failing, caged as it is. “That’s it, take my cock. You like that, don’t you, my delinquent one?”
“Love your cock, Master,” I say smiling up at him, delirious. My arse still stings from his nasty little implement, same with all the places on my body that suffered the treatment, but the sting mixes with the pleasure his cock brings and it sends me reeling.
“Good boy.”
I moan. Fuck. I love being called “good boy.” Not that I’ll ever admit to that out loud, but they know. Alrik slams his cock into me at a steady pace, all the while looking into my eyes. “You going to come around my cock, sweet boy?”
I nod lost in the bliss. For once I don’t even care if I come or not. I’m enjoying his responses and seeinghispleasure. The large Elf has sweat breaking across his brow and over his ears, dripping into his white hair. Alrik is an old Elf. Thousands of years old, but you wouldn’t know if not for his silver eyes that are pure pools of an ancient story. His eyes crinkle with happiness as he gazes at me all the while fucking me, getting closer to me, hitting my prostate over and over.
“C’mon sweetheart, come. You can come for me like this can’t you?”
I think I can today. I know I want to, I’vewantedto all month. “Please,” I cry. “Please, Master.”
I can tell he’s straining, holding back his orgasm for me, which is unheard of. It’s usually,‘if you want to come, you’ll do it before I do or not at all’, but he wants me to win this one today. The sensation of his cock against my prostate is overwhelming, combined with just the right amount of pain and I finally fall over the edge.
And it’s exactly like that, a falling versus an explosion. Come does dribbles out of my cock, but the orgasmic sensations come from my arse instead, casting out and vibrating through me as I squeeze around his dick. When it’s over, I’m boneless as he pumps sticky come into me.
Still on top of me, his hands pressed into the mattress, he cranes his head down to kiss me, his tongue slipping over mine, tangling and caressing. “You did it,” he says, proud of me.
I’m still far away in subspace, I nod everything around me buoyant.
“Come. Time for a hot bath and then we’ve got work to attend to today.”
He makes sure I’m cleaned up and that salve is rubbed into my lash marks and then he helps me dress in the world’s smallest pair of shorts, which I make a note to complain about later, even deep as I am into my sub-haze. I kneel for him as gracefully as I can at his feet in the Great Hall as he works, enjoying how my hair surrounds me as he places it just so. He occasionally runs his hands through it and tells mewhat a good job I’m doing, encouraging me, “just a bit longer, sweetheart,” when my endurance begins to wane.
At the end of the day, he carries me back to his bed and massages my feet until I return to the land of the living. I stretch and smile, feeling a world better. Fuck. I always fight it but surrendering brings me freedom. “Fucking hell, Alrik. That was intense.”
“Not as intense as it was going to be,” he says picking up my foot, to press a kiss into the wrinkles on the bottom of it. “But you’re too irresistible for your own good.”
“I can’t believe you made me wear tiny little pants. I’d like to veto these.”
“But you look so delightful.”
I grumble rolling my hot face into the pillow. I’ll never see the last of them, will I?
“Tristan, you sure you don’t want to take my title? You could do a lot of good for the realm. You’re good with people and you would make a good mate for me. I have come to realize, I’m happy with a part-time husband, I’m too busy for someone full-time. What you and I have works for me.”
A pit forms in my stomach. I’m drawn to make him happy, to please him, it kills me when I have to turn him down. Plus, doing things for the good of the realm is my weakness.
“It won’t interfere with you and Corrik, I’ll make sure,” he continues. “We would need at least one child, but I’ll bear the responsibility of raising him or her and I’ll find a partner to satisfy my other, deeper, total power exchange needs.”
Wow, he really wants this. I bite my lip.
“Don’t answer now,” he says when he sees I’m about to. “This isn’t a proposal. This is just me putting it out to you for consideration. There’s no rush at the moment, it can be a hundred years from now if you like, but I want you to know that is my intention. Your fault. I told you if I kissed you, I would need you to be mine.”
“You’d be my Third Husband,” I muse. Most Elves are four hundred before they have a second of course I’m an exception in thattoo. “I thought Crown Princes didn’t marry their first husband as a third husband.”
“They don’t,” he says pressing his thumbs into the spaces in between my toes on the tops of my feet. “But even Mother and Father agree, you’re something different and special. You were meant to come into our world and do something great. You’d have more power to do that with my title.”
I know he’s right. My heart clenches and I’m reminded of my intent when I asked the Mother to make me Elf.
I remember there was a price. Is this the price? Service to the first Elven realm for the rest of my days? I don’t know. “I’ll consider it, Alrik.”
